


Dangerous Liaisons

by MizJoely



Series: Khanolly [12]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, OT3, PWP, Polyamory, Smut, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-05
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-16 04:37:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2256150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/pseuds/MizJoely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the Star Trek Mirrorverse, Khan rules the Terran Empire with his Empress Molly at his side. He is descended from the first Khan Noonian Singh, and the Augments have ruled for three hundred years. One day a stranger appears, one who bears a striking resemblance to the Emperor and claims to be none other than the legendary Sherlock Holmes, whose genome was the basis for the Augment program. What will this mean for the three of them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Meeting of Like Minds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [benedictedcumberbatched](https://archiveofourown.org/users/benedictedcumberbatched/gifts).



The Emperor Khan and his Empress Molly were entwined about one another, kissing hungrily as they entered their private, most sacrosanct suite of rooms in the royal palace. Khan had removed Molly’s gown, leaving his bride in her soft yellow slip and thigh-high black leather boots; his hands were twined through her hair, loosening the tight plaits, when a sound, almost inaudible to non-Augmented ears, put them both on guard. Without any hesitation Khan pushed his Empress behind his well-muscled form and whipped out a phaser, training it unerringly on the as-yet-unseen form of the invader whilst simultaneously calling out for his personal guard. The glint of steel from one of Molly’s small hands showed that she, too had reacted without hesitation, pulling her dagger from the top of her boot and readying herself for battle like the warrior she was.

“Don’t bother, I’ve disabled communications,” a voice spoke from the darkness. “Lights to one half,” it added, and the intruder stepped into view.

Molly had let out an involuntary gasp at the sound of that voice, and once he got a clear look at the other man, Khan understood why: he was, in almost every aspect, identical to himself. “Well. Whoever engineered you could have at least got the hair right,” he sneered, looking his doppelganger up and down contemptuously. The riot of dark curls on the other man’s head were nothing like his own sleek locks, and were more dark brown than the near black of Khan’s hair.

“Actually,” the stranger corrected with an easy smile, “they got _your_ hair wrong. Allow me to introduce myself – Sherlock Holmes, at your service.” And he gave a mocking bow.

“That’s impossible,” Molly said, speaking up before Khan could, her voice flat and cold. “Sherlock Holmes has been dead for three hundred years.”

“In cryosleep, actually,” the other man – Sherlock Holmes, genetic ancestor to the Augments, was it possible? – corrected her. He tossed something toward them while remaining at the far side of the antechamber, near the door to their bedroom from which he’d first emerged. Khan caught it automatically, not bothering to wonder if it was a weapon of some sort; if the man had wanted to kill them, he would have done so already, instead of giving up the advantage of surprise he’d held.

It was a data disk; Khan examined it briefly before returning his gaze to the other man. “I presume this holds evidence of your claim,” he said.

Sherlock’s eyebrow raised in a quizzical manner. “Surely my presence here, in your supposedly most secure and impregnable chambers, is proof that I am more than some mere assassin.” His expression darkened. “Instead of questioning my credentials, which can be easily proven to be authentic, you should perhaps be asking why I’m here, why I risked death in order to breach these chambers and speak to you both.”

“Very well,” Khan replied, reholstering his phaser in spite of Molly’s gasp of protest. He deliberately turned his back on the other man – yes, he would accept him as who he claimed to be, for the moment at least – in order to gently press his queen’s hand down, lowering her weapon in a symbolic gesture of trust. “He’s correct, my love; he could easily have murdered us instead of deliberately making his presence known. We will listen to him.”

“And if he’s lying or simply attempting to lull us into a false sense of security,” Molly snapped, “then we’ll kill him, yes?”

“Of course,” Khan replied, and she unwillingly slipped her knife back into its boot-top sheathe. 

Sherlock remained silent and unmoving during this little discourse, and waited courteously for the Emperor and Empress to move further into the room, taking up seats on the low, comfortable sofa where they had so often coupled before speaking again. Again, they were deliberately putting themselves in so-called inferior positions to him, and although Molly was visibly uneasy about doing so, Khan remained calm, both inwardly and outwardly. He had learned to trust his instincts over the decades of his rise to power, and right now they were telling him to trust this man, and he was confident it had nothing to do with their superficial physical resemblance. So he sat back, and listened.

“I was placed into cryosleep, along with seventy-two other volunteers for the Augment program, in the early 21st century, after the second series of world wars broke out,” Sherlock said, without preamble or further explanation. Nor did either Khan nor Molly require such; they knew the history of the world far too well. Until the Augments had risen to power during the Vulcan incursion, Earth had been a war-torn planet, seemingly bent on its own destruction. Now it was a powerful Empire, the center of a multi-world coalition that spanned a large part of the Alpha quadrant and had vanquished such enemies as the Klingons and the Romulans with ruthless ease.

“Everyone believed that I had been killed, which was what Dr. Soong and the others in charge of the program wanted them to believe,” Sherlock continued, taking the seat Khan silently offered, directly across from the other two. Khan didn’t miss the way Molly tensed at the other man’s movements – nor did Sherlock, whose eyes darted over to meet hers as his lips curved in a sardonic smile that Khan had seen in his own mirrors more than once. 

“They’d already extracted genetic material to continue the program, but wanted to preserve the first group of volunteers, and we agreed – upon pain of death,” he added with a bitter laugh. “Ironic, wasn’t it? They altered our genome in order to make us the perfect humans, to bring peace to the world, and then threatened us with our own deaths and the deaths of those we cared for in order to force us into hibernation. But I digress; we were, indeed, placed into cryosleep and hidden away, our location lost after Dr. Soong and the other geneticists had been murdered when their supposedly secret, impregnable compound was discovered and overrun.” He glanced around the antechamber as he spoke, then returned his mocking gaze to Khan.

“Point taken,” the Emperor said impatiently. “Continue. Who released you?”

“Someone who wanted to use me to murder you, impregnate the Empress, take your place, and allow myself to be used as a puppet, with all the power devolving upon them. All this was to be in exchange for the lives of my comrades, who had been hidden away from me. However,” he added with an expressive curl of his upper lip and a tone of deep irony, “it appears that my captor was far less clever than he believed himself to be, and so I found and freed them.” 

“Who? Who dares betray us in this manner?” Molly snarled, half-rising from her seat. She’d clearly gone from doubting their uninvited guest to believing him, much as Khan himself had done. The man’s story was too far-fetched, too easily disproven, for him to be lying. Unless he was stalling for time, but Khan prided himself on his ability to read others, Augmented or not, and saw no such deception in this man’s face, heard no lies spilling from his lips. He could be a clone, of course, programmed to believe everything he said, but under the circumstances, Khan had no difficulty in putting such a possibility aside. 

Sherlock nodded at the disk Khan still held. “It’s all there. But if you need a name right now…” He turned his head and gave a sharp whistle. “Bring him out,” he snapped.

Khan and Molly were once again on the alert, weapons to hand and on their feet as the sound of movement came from the darkened sleep chamber. Then two figures emerged, a man and a woman, both somewhat older than Sherlock, shorter as well; the man with ash blond hair, steely blue eyes and set features, the woman a golden-haired blonde with a jagged scar running along her jawline below cornflower-blue eyes flashing with barely restrained fury. They each held a phaser, and between them they dragged a bound and unconscious third figure, one well known to both Khan and his Empress.

“Admiral Marcus?” Molly said incredulously, flashing the new intruders a glare which they met stoically. “The evidence of his treachery had better be unassailable, or I can assure you, all three of you and your accomplices will meet with very unpleasant fates.”

Khan was proud of the way she faced the unfavorable odds so unflinchingly; when they were alone he would be sure to demonstrate that pride very, very thoroughly. Alone, or perhaps with one other joining them…if, of course, Sherlock was who he claimed to be and wasn’t dead or imprisoned with his co-conspirators by then. 

With equal gestures of contempt, the two newcomers dropped their burden to the floor and stepped away, keeping their phasers trained on Marcus and appearing to completely ignore Khan and Molly. Khan scowled, but was impressed; no one on Earth aside from Molly and his second in command Joachim would dare to dismiss him so blatantly. Either they were very sure of themselves, or they were incredibly stupid.

Somehow, he doubted they were the latter.

Molly had taken the disk and opened up a connection to the central database on their private computer. After scanning the disk to be sure it held no viruses or other dangers, she placed it into the reader and ordered the computer to examine the data contained within.

After only few minutes, the harsh male voice responded. “All data confirmed as accurate and showing no signs of tampering or manipulation. Evidence presented confirms that Admiral David Thomas Marcus has performed multiple acts of treason. Recommendation: Immediate execution.”

“You know I’m telling the truth now,” Sherlock said, shooting a contemptuous look at Marcus before returning his attention to Khan and Molly. “And I know that you’ve summoned your guards. Will you be subjecting myself and my compatriots – and no, there are no others hidden in your rooms, although of course you’ll want to confirm that for yourselves – to a session in the Agony Booth, or have we proven ourselves no threats?”

“You risked much by coming here,” Khan replied as he studied the man sitting opposite him. Molly rejoined him, sitting next to him and resting her head on his shoulder. Khan put his arm around her, pulling her close, stroking her thigh and watching with interest as Sherlock’s gaze darted just for a moment to those languid movements. The other man had a reputation for being cold, dispassionate to a fault, but Khan saw quite clearly that he simply presented an emotionless façade to the world. Much as he himself did.

The thought of exploring just how passionate his new ally might be brought a stirring of arousal, and he could tell by the way his Empresses’ eyes were fixed on the other man, the way her fingers dug into his own shoulder, that she felt it as well. 

“Your comrades will be detained under guard in a separate location until I’m satisfied that you haven’t somehow managed to deceive the computer,” he announced, just as members of his elite private guard poured into the room.

They held their weapons at the ready and wore expressions of chagrin on their faces beneath the rigid masks they tried to project. But Khan knew them all, and knew that each and every one of them blamed him- or herself for allowing this potentially dangerous invasion of his sanctuary. “Take these two to the south tower,” he directed, nodding at Sherlock’s companions. The young commander, a fierce young woman with mahogany skin and implacable black eyes and the incongruously girlish name of ‘Sally’, snapped off a salute. “Keep them under guard, but treat them courteously,” he cautioned her. 

“And the Admiral?” she asked, eyes flickering down to the floor and back up to meet her Emperor’s gaze. Khan recalled that she had no love for the older man, but had admitted to no particular reason for not trusting him other than her gut instincts. She was always doubly alert when he was in Khan or Molly’s presence. She would derive a great deal of satisfaction if it turned out that Marcus was, indeed, the traitor he appeared to be.

“Take him to the brig, but he is to undergo no interrogation or torture until the evidence on this disk has been independently verified.” He nodded at the computer, and Sally silently jerked her head at one of the guards, a bearded soldier whose lean form hid a wiry strength. Phillip, that was his name. He removed the disk from the reader, offering his Empress a deep bow as he did so, then straightened and awaited his next command.

Sherlock and his two compatriots had remained immobile this entire time, except when they had willingly surrendered their weapons. As the older pair were escorted from the room, they gave Sherlock brief nods, and Khan noted the way they moved together; lovers at the very least, if not husband and wife. The woman had given birth to at least one child, and he made a mental note to discover if that child was still with them or had been taken from them before their enforced cryosleep.

“What about your twin, my Emperor?” Sally asked, cutting into his musings. 

He blinked sleepily and allowed a dark smile to curve his lips as he replied, “Mr. Sherlock Holmes will be staying here, with the Empress and myself. For a more…personal… interview.”

Sally gave a jerky bow, eyeing her Emperor’s lookalike suspiciously. Khan knew she didn’t like it, but she also knew that Khan and Molly were more than capable of taking down a single intruder if he caused trouble. Of course she insisted on a full body scan to ensure he had no hidden weapons; of course Khan agreed. And surprisingly enough, Sherlock seemed entirely unperturbed by any of it. If anything, there was a sense of anticipation about him that told Khan the other man knew exactly what was planned…and was looking forward to it.


	2. More Than Mere Transport

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is turning out to be a biiit longer than I'd originally intended; instead of being a 2-shot, there will be 3, possibly 4 chapters to this. Here be polyamorous smut, folks, and there will be further smut after this with a sub/dom aspect to it (a lot of m/m but Molly will ALWAYS be in the mix). Ass play in this one for those who wish to be warned of such.

Sherlock Holmes was a patient man. He hadn’t always been, but time and the Augmentation process had forced it on him. He watched as John and Mary were escorted from the premises, the silent communication the three of them shared – bordering on telepathic – letting them know he wasn’t worried for either their safety or his own. The last look he exchanged with them told them more than words could have communicated that he was sincere in his belief that this would end well for them all.

When the last of the guards had – somewhat reluctantly, he noted with amusement – filed from the room, and he was alone with Khan and the Empress Molly, Sherlock waited to see which of the pair would make the first move.

He’d predicted it would be Khan, but no; as Sherlock’s attention returned to the couple standing across the room from him, it Molly who sauntered toward him with a hungry look in her eyes. Such an innocent, incongruous name for a woman who had ruthlessly revived and perfected the long-forgotten art of vivisection. He wondered how she would have fared in the far more tumultuous times from which he and his fellow Augments had been wrenched, then promptly forgot any such musings as she reached out and slid her hand up his chest. “Such boldness deserves a reward,” she purred as her fingers reached his face and cupped his chin. She tugged him down and pressed her lips to his, but he kept his eyes on her husband, making sure that he hadn’t misjudged his lookalike’s intentions once he’d dismissed the others.

Khan met his gaze with his own, amusement and lust dancing in his eyes, and gave the tiniest of nods, watching avidly as Sherlock wrapped his arms around the petite Empress’ waist and pulled her snugly against his body. He’d been half-hard from a combination of anticipation and adrenaline ever since stepping out of his hiding place in their bedchamber, and knew that Molly could feel his desire warm and solid against her hip as he deepened their kiss.

It wasn’t long before her hands were moving again, squirming between their joined bodies as she undid the clasps on his stolen uniform jacket, sliding it down his arms as he released his hold on her to allow it to drop to the floor. The rest of his clothes followed swiftly, and her wisp of an undergarment was easily lifted over her head and discarded as well. When she bent to remove her boots, however, he grinned and shook his head at her, reaching down, dragging his fingers over her thighs until he reached her dagger. He pulled it free and threw it across the room, watching with a certain amount of detached interest as it unerringly hit its mark on the doorframe, quivering a bit from the force of the throw. It was his way of silently demonstrating that his claims to Augmentation – to being _the_ Augment, no arrogance, simply the truth – were as real as everything else he’d said and done this day.

He watched as Khan leisurely stripped himself of his clothing, noting that the other man had been unfazed by the thrown dagger even when it whipped by within inches of his face; Molly had turned to glare at Sherlock, but her husband’s amused laugh had eased her concerns enough that she willingly allowed the former consulting detective to once again pull her into his embrace. This time he turned her to face her husband, sliding his hands around her body, reaching up to cup her small but perfect breasts in his hands as he leaned down and pressed a series of demanding kisses to her neck.

He watched from under his lashes as Khan joined them, admiring the other man’s muscular form while feeling no sense of inadequacy with his own lean frame. He knew his own wiry strength and was just as confident – some would say arrogant – of his attractiveness as the emperor. The empress certainly seemed to find no fault in either of them, judging by the low moans issuing from her throat as Sherlock’s kisses turned to nips and his fingers pinched and fondled her nipples.

Those low moans turned to guttural growls as Khan sank to his knees before them, once again showing a complete lack of concern at taking up a supposedly psychologically inferior position. Sherlock watched avariciously as the other man threw Molly’s left leg over his shoulder and pressed his mouth directly to her vulva.

Molly turned her head blindly, eyes screwed tightly shut, her mouth seeking Sherlock’s as her fingers sank deep into her husband’s dark hair. Her tongue demanded entrance, sliding eagerly between his lips, and Sherlock was more than happy to allow her entrance. He nipped at her lower lip, reveling in the vibrations of her mouth as she continued to moan with pleasure. Daringly he removed his left hand from her breast and slid it down her waist, slipping his index finger down to press against her clitoris. He felt Khan’s tongue against the digit, heard the sudden intake of Molly’s breath as she broke their kiss, and knew a savage pleasure he hadn’t experienced since well before his cryosleep.

Memories of sharing nights with John and Mary flashed through his mind; his closest friends, his family in all but blood. He had no illusions of forming such a tight bond with his 23rd century counterpart and his wife, but the sex…ah, that promised to be spectacular.

Keeping his hand where it was, he lowered himself so that he, too was kneeling, dragging his tongue down Molly’s back and into the cleft of her buttocks as he did so. Mimicking Khan’s posture, Sherlock slid his free hand between Molly’s legs and slipped two digits inside her dripping cunt, meeting no resistance from either partner. Indeed, Molly’s delightfully vulgar noises became even louder, groans and gasps and squeaks that were sweet music to his ears. She reached back, groping for his head, digging one hand tightly into his curls as he slipped his tongue into her anus; she bucked and nearly collapsed, but Sherlock and Khan had both moved with lightning speed to grip her hips, Sherlock’s finger slippery from her sweet juices but his hold just as steady as her husband’s.

oOo

Molly felt her knees buckling, but the two gorgeous men currently worshiping her with their mouths caught her and helped her stay upright, although not for long. Khan pulled his mouth away from her pussy, which caused her to pout angrily down at him. He grinned up at her, unrepentant, and slid her leg off his shoulder, encouraging her to join him – and Sherlock, whose mouth moved away from her ass as he perceived Khan’s intent – on the softly carpeted floor.

She obeyed, of course, never questioning anything her husband demanded of her when it came to sex. She was glad he seemed as enamored of their unexpected guest as she had become, once her initial suspicions had been allayed; if Khan had sent Sherlock away, she would have undoubtedly found her way to his bed sooner rather than later. But it was so much sweeter when her husband shared lovers with her, and she knew he felt the same; he’d adored the way she and his favorite concubine, Irene, had played with one another just two nights earlier, teasing him through the viewscreen in his office until he’d cut whatever boring meeting he’d been involved with short and joined them in Irene’s sumptuous chambers.

The differences and similarities between Sherlock and Khan, however, were so utterly enthralling that Molly had no interest in pursuing any other sexual encounters, at least not in the foreseeable future. She’d seen the looks he and his two cohorts had exchanged, and had read an equally engaging relationship in those looks, but tonight – and for however long she and Khan remained fascinated by him – Sherlock belonged to them.

She lay back and opened her arms to Khan, loving the taste of her musk on his lips as he kissed her, his kisses as aggressive and demanding as ever. Sherlock took her husband’s place between her legs, lapping eagerly at her folds as she bent her legs in order to give him more room. She approved of his technique, not quite as bold and demanding as Khan’s ministrations, but no less enjoyable. She gasped as she felt his teeth nipping at her nether lips, then gasped again as he slid one finger deep into her ass, thrusting hard as his sucking kisses to her pussy became more intense.

Khan, meanwhile, wasted no time sliding behind her so that his back rested against the low divan they’d settled down next to; he lifted her torso so that she was now in a semi-reclining position, her back against the firm strength of his chest, legs draped over his bent knees. His hands slid down to cup her breasts much as Sherlock had done earlier while his head lowered so he could claim the sensitive skin over her pulse point, sucking a dark, claiming mark there. His thumbs brushed over her nipples and she was, she decided deliriously as she approached her first orgasm, the most fortunate woman in the Empire at this moment.

oOo

Khan smirked as he saw the signs of his wife’s impending orgasm; seconds later she was keening and wailing, thrashing in his arms, her body straining as Sherlock continued to finger and lick her, not pausing even as her aftershocks abated. Good; Molly would have been insulted if he’d immediately pulled away. She was no ordinary woman, his sweet, deadly Empress, and for Sherlock to have treated her as such would have been a grave mistake.

From what he could discern of the man so far, Sherlock Holmes was not one to make mistakes.

When Molly finally grasped his head and twisted her fingers in his dark curls, forcing his head up and away from her sex, Khan knew her expression would be one of pure lust. It was certainly the look on Sherlock’s face as he gazed up at her; lust and just the hint of a pout, like a child denied a sweet. Molly continued pulling on his hair, and he rose to his hands and knees, obedient to her touch. Would he show such obedience to him, Khan wondered idly, or would he have to be forced into it?

Only one way to find out; lifting his wife by her hips, Khan deposited Molly gently on her feet, then twisted his body around until he and Sherlock were literally face to face, the one still kneeling, the other crouched as if ready to pounce at the slightest provocation.

Whatever happened next, Khan knew, was going to be very, very interesting.


	3. Let The Games Begin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for m/m, m/f, anal, oral, fantasizing, etc.

Sherlock Holmes had never been a modest man, even before pioneering the Augment program headed by Doctors Soong and Singh. He’d been arrogant, abrasive, domineering…all of that and more. And yet, as he looked into Khan’s eyes, he suspected he might finally have met his match. Someone who might just be able to give him something he’d secretly longed for, but never found.

Someone who could take the burden of control from his shoulders, if only for a short time.

Not that he would ever admit to such a desire out loud; and certainly never to the man facing him. In the split second before Khan moved, Sherlock read his intent in his eyes and had only time enough to rear up onto his knees so that his hands were free before Khan’s mouth was crashing onto his own, those long, sensuous fingers so like his very own threading through his dark curls, his tongue demanding entrance in a manner entirely familiar, albeit from the other side.

He allowed the kiss, enjoyed it even, but made sure to be the first to break free. He might secretly long for the type of dominance Khan symbolized – and seemed more than capable of giving him – but such dominance needed to be earned before Sherlock could allow himself to submit. Before he could move to push Khan back to his knees, however, he felt Molly winding her body sinuously around his from behind, her hands gliding up his chest, her mouth on the nape of his neck. He turned his head to capture her lips in a kiss, threading his fingers through her chestnut tresses, working her hair from its gilded and bejeweled restraints, scattering hairpins to the floor as she laughed beneath his kisses. Then he felt Khan’s presence at his back and cursed himself for allowing Molly to distract him from his immediate purpose.

She pulled away, still laughing, a gleeful expression on her face as Sherlock tried to evade Khan’s hold. He just needed that small edge, a brief moment to allow himself to come to terms with finally getting something he’d always wanted.

He’d forgotten who he was dealing with. Khan and Molly were Emperor and Empress of a vast Empire spanning dozens of star systems, and their Augmented strength was more than equal to his own. He could probably take Molly down in a fair fight, but even though he and the other man were genetically similar – almost identical – Sherlock had spent more time developing his intellect rather than his physical form. Khan was just as fiercely intelligent, but his well-muscled form wasn’t merely for show.

Before Sherlock knew it, he found himself pinned down, wrestled into an armlock while Khan leaned over his body, his breath hot on his cheek as he said, “What, changed your mind? Why do I find that…” he paused, grinding himself against the cleft of Sherlock’s arse before finishing with: “…hard to believe?”

“And you tell me not to make jokes!” Molly trilled as she rose to her feet, moving away from the two men. Sherlock watched her walking, unselfconscious in her near-nudity, the thigh-high black leather boots with their stiletto heels only adding to her instinctively sensual stride. 

“Lovely, is she not?” Khan purred, as Sherlock balanced himself on one hand and his knees. He felt Khan nudging his legs wider apart, and as Molly rejoined them, holding a small, jewel-encrusted jar in one hand and wearing a knowing smirk on her face, Sherlock moaned, knowing what was about to happen – and no longer even the smallest bit reluctant. However, he continued to struggle against the stronger man’s hold, testing his strength, the analytical part of his mind comparing their relative skills even as he felt Molly’s fingers sliding between their bodies, the cool lubricating ointment coating her fingers as she pressed lightly on his arsehole, wrenching another moan from his throat.

If they weren’t Augments, and if it wasn’t the 23rd century when almost all terrestrial diseases had been eradicated – at least for the upper echelons of society – she would have likely covered her slender fingers with a condom or rubber finger cot before sliding them deep inside his rectum. But there was no need of such between them, and he welcomed the way she worked him, even as he continued to try and slip his arm free from Khan’s hold.

“Molly, my love, I do believe Sherlock is playing games,” the Emperor said with a dark chuckle as he slid his swollen cock between Sherlock’s spread thighs, so that it pressed up against his own genitals. He bit back a moan at the sensation; he’d been on the giving end of such in the past, but being on the receiving end was an entirely different category of sensations to note and catalog at some point in the future, when his brain was functioning properly.

“Sweet Sherlock, stop fighting, we all know you want this,” Molly crooned as she added a third finger, thrusting sharply, burying the digits as deeply as they could go. This time he couldn’t contain the moan; it escaped his throat just as Khan finally eased his grip, releasing Sherlock’s arm and pressing to down to rest on the floor. “Will you taste me again while he has you, or shall I just watch my lord taking his pleasure of you?”

Sherlock looked back over his shoulder, to see Molly and Khan trading lazy kisses. The other man had straightened so that he rested comfortably on his knees, one hand stroking a line from Sherlock’s shoulders to his hips, the other fondling Molly’s breasts as she continued to work her fingers deep inside him. She cast her eyes at Sherlock, whose breath was coming in panting gasps, and she pulled her fingers free in order to slick them with more of the lubricant. But instead of returning to her work of preparing Sherlock to take Khan inside him, she reached down grasped the Emperor’s cock, her fingers nimbly dancing across Sherlock’s as well, wringing identical gasps from both men’s throats.

“Now who’s playing games?” Sherlock growled, twisting his body just enough to drag her down so that she rested beneath him. The movement required him to alter his stance just the slightest bit, and he felt the tip of Khan’s cock brushing against his arse; he hissed in surprise and felt his own cock hardening further as his body flushed with renewed arousal.

Molly grinned unrepentantly as she stroked his cock from where she now lay on her back. “Come, now, Sherlock, surely you’ve played these sorts of games before!” she said knowingly, and he understood that she had intuited the nature of his relationship with John and Mary, who had welcomed him into their shared bed on many occasions. 

“And surely you recognize when the time for playing is over,” Khan said, his lips lifted in a snarl of triumph as he pressed slightly closer, almost but not quite penetrating Sherlock’s opening. The 21st century Augment pressed back, silently demanding that Khan finish what he’d started, wanting to feel him inside his body, but with a chuckle Khan held back. “Beg for it, Sherlock,” he demanded haughtily. “Beg for me to enter you.”

Molly hooked her ankles around Sherlock’s neck in a swift movement, dragging his head down so that his mouth hovered above her sex. “Taste me again, Sherlock,” she said huskily as she settled her feet back on the floor, spreading herself open with her fingers in a lewd motion that turned Sherlock’s mouth dry, even as Khan’s words sent currents of desire spiking through his body. His nipples tautened into hard little nubs; the hairs on the backs of his arms stood on end, and he could no more ignore their demands than he could alter the orbit of the Earth around the Sun.

“Please,” he groaned as he buried his face in Molly’s sweet cunt, nipping softly at her clit, feeling her fingers so warm against his tongue. “Please, Khan,” he gasped again as he felt one of the other man’s hands coming to rest on his hip. He glanced back over his shoulders from where he rested on his forearms, saw that Khan had taken himself in hand, and bucked back against him. “God, please, yes,” he moaned; the Emperor’s lips curled in a dark, seductive smile, and he finally began to ease himself into Sherlock’s body.

Sherlock couldn’t hold back on his groans of pleasure as he felt Khan filling him, his cock so warm and slicked with lubricant. When the other man was fully seated inside him, Sherlock waited for him to start moving, bucking backwards impatiently when Khan seemed content to simply rest over him, watching as Sherlock continued to pleasure Molly with his mouth.

As if that single, instinctive movement of Sherlock’s hips had been a signal, Khan started moving, leaning over the other man, resting his chest against his back, bracing himself with one hand on the floor and the other wrapped around Sherlock’s waist, holding him firmly in place as he thrust himself in and out, increasing in rhythm as Sherlock moaned against Molly’s cunt. The Empress dug her fingers into his head, tugging at his curls, her long nails scratching against his scalp; he could feel blood and the scent of it seemed to drive Khan mad with desire; he roared and sped his movements until he was nothing but a blur of motion. Sherlock, panting, tried to keep up, then simply allowed Khan to set the pace, concentrating as best he could on bringing Molly to another climax. He felt her walls tightening around his tongue as he pushed it inside her, and lapped up her juices as she gave a shrill cry, her body going taut much as it had the first time.

He cried out as well when he felt Khan’s hand grasping his cock, tugging the foreskin up and down, and felt the familiar tightening in his balls, knowing he was going to come well before the other man did if he wasn’t careful. And even though he’d surrendered control, there was still the smallest part of him that struggled to remain in charge, that refused to give up, to allow orgasm to be forced on him before he was ready.

Besides, he wanted to bury his cock deep inside Molly’s cunt, hear her screaming his name, digging her fingernails into his back when he made her come, then fill her womb with his ejaculate. Perhaps Khan would go down on his wife then, after Sherlock pulled out, and lap up their joined essences…

With a strangled curse Sherlock came, unexpectedly and quite violently, betrayed by his own lascivious thoughts and the expert way Khan was riding him. He felt Molly’s hand leave his head and reach down to slick themselves over his cock, then watched through glazed eyes as she brought her hands up to her mouth and greedily licked and sucked his cum off of every finger but one. She lifted that one up to Khan’s mouth, and his lips closed over the tip, his eyes snapping shut as he continued to move against Sherlock’s body, faster and faster still until he came with a great roar, his own cum feeling deliciously hot as it shot into Sherlock’s arse, his cock pulsing and making Sherlock’s stomach tighten with renewed pleasure at the sensation.


	4. Dance Along The Edge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter left, thanks for sticking with it!

Molly decided to be gracious and allow her Emperor and their new playmate time to recover before once again demanding their attentions, but when she rose to fetch a glass of wine, Sherlock’s hand on her ankle stopped her. “Leaving so soon?” he drawled, smiling up at her as lustfully as if he hadn’t just been thoroughly pleasured. 

Khan, who was still draped over his kneeling form, gave her an identical smile, full of dark promise that prickled her skin and brought a flood of moisture to her sex. “Hurry back, Molly, and be sure to bring enough wine for all of us,” he said, tugging at Sherlock’s wrist until he was forced to release her. Those full lips so like Khan’s turned downward in a pout that just begged to be kissed into submission, but Molly simply laughed and spun away, eager to return to their debauchery but dying for a drink. She needed refueling before her powers of recuperation could kick in.

One last look over her shoulder revealed Khan cupping Sherlock’s cheek before pulling the other man’s face forward for a demanding kiss. Sherlock struggled lightly, but it was a token attempt at best, and Molly had to force herself to look away lest she be drawn back to them before accomplishing her self-appointed mission. Her throat was dry, and even though none of them needed alcohol to relax them, she knew the men would be just as grateful for a drink.

The sight of the two men lying where she’d left them on the floor, Khan now curled around Sherlock and both men on their sides, brought another flush of warmth to her body, and she knelt in front of them, sipping from her wine glass and watching in quiet amusement as they untangled themselves from one another and struggled into sitting positions in order to accept their own glasses. “Tsk, I leave for two minutes, and neither one of you can stay awake for my return?” She stuck out her lower lip in imitation of Sherlock’s earlier pout. “I fear you’re losing interest. I’ve lost my charms, I’m no longer attractive.” Heaving a dramatic sigh, she set her glass down and made as if to return to her feet. “I’ll just go and leave you to your amusements. Or your naps,” she added with a smirk.

This time when Sherlock’s hand shot out to grab her ankle she was ready for him and nimbly skipped out of reach, only to have her husband go from recumbent to standing, his hands on her wrists, faster than she could blink. She loved the speed and grace with which he moved, especially when his eyes were gleaming with a mixture of amusement and desire as they were now. She gasped as he pulled her closer, yanking her against his hard chest and tightening his grip. “Come now, Molly, the party’s just beginning,” he purred, leaning down to capture a kiss.

She struggled to free herself, knowing how much he enjoyed this particular game – and slanting her gaze downward to see what Sherlock was doing. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to come between you and your new…friend,” she replied, twisting her body in a self-defense move that he’d taught her back in the days when she was simply a courtesan who’d caught his eye.

She bit back a laugh as he easily maintained his hold on her, only now she was facing away from him, his arms around her and her own crossed against her chest. Her rear was snugged up against his muscular form, and she could feel the stirring of his cock as their mock-struggle further aroused him. She’d tried taking normal humans as lovers, but had given them up long ago since none could compare to an Augmented human when it came to recuperation and stamina.

“A true gentleman would come to a lady’s rescue,” she said to Sherlock, giving him another pout as he seemed content to continue lounging on the floor behind them and sipping his wine, no doubt admiring the view of Khan’s toned buttocks.

“Ah, but you seem to forget, Empress, that I am no gentleman,” Sherlock replied, setting his glass down next to Khan’s and jumping lightly to his feet before stepping in front of her. “And you are no lady,” he added in a sultry murmur as he reached out and cupped her head in his hands. He stepped closer, so that his body pressed against hers, his chest touching her breasts and Khan’s arms as he pulled her into a heated kiss.

When the kiss ended, it wasn’t Sherlock who spoke, but Khan, a single, curtly uttered word: “Bedroom.”

He released his tight hold on her, only to shove her into Sherlock’s arms instead. Instantly grasping Khan’s intentions – and Molly’s enthusiasm, in spite of mock struggles – Sherlock took her wrists in his hands and twisted her arms behind her back. “You heard the Emperor,” he said, deepening his voice and sending shivers up her spine. “Bedroom. Now.”

Molly’s struggles to free herself were far more real this time, but only so she could test Sherlock’s strength and compare it to both Khan’s and her own. He tightened his grip and kept her from twisting her wrists free with no discernible effort, and when she attempted to kick back at him with the heel of her boot he proved just as nimble as he was strong, easily dodging the blow. “Ah, ah, none of that,” he admonished her, scooping her into his arms and carrying her the short distance remaining. 

When they entered the bedroom Khan was waiting for them, her favorite pair of fur-lined manacles in his hands. Sherlock wrestled Molly’s arms so that they were extended in front of her, and Khan smoothly snapped the restraining devices in place. Holding them by the center, he yanked her forward and kissed her hard, his other hand on the back of her head, before pulling away with a low laugh and shoving her toward Sherlock. “Don’t worry about being gentle, my friend; believe me, Molly can handle anything you throw at her.”

“Brute,” Molly said without rancor, arching her back as she felt Sherlock’s hands sliding up her body to cup her breasts. She sucked in a breath as he pinched her nipples, plucking them into taut nubs. Khan rejoined them after taking a deep swig from the bottle of wine she’d opened but left in the bedroom, knowing they would end up in that far more comfortable location sooner rather than later. “Well?” she demanded, gazing challengingly up at her husband. “Aren’t you going to ravish me? Or will you leave Sherlock to do all the wor…OH!” she interrupted herself with a gasp as he swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed.

The magnetic latch on the headboard caught and held the manacles so that her arms were extended over her head, and Molly groaned with pleasure as Khan and Sherlock each slipped one of her boots off. They were sexy, true, but they also were a pain in the ass – well, the foot, to be anatomically accurate – to wear. Khan set to work cleaning her with a soft, damp cloth, while Sherlock moved back up the bed and began laying a series of soft, precise kisses down her torso.

He kissed around her nipples until she finally demanded that he stop tormenting her, to which his response was a low laugh and a promise that he intended to spend a great deal of the night doing just that. Then he proved himself that rarity in the Empire: a man of his word. By the time he finally caught one straining nipple in his mouth, Molly was begging him not to tease her any longer, to just fuck her already. Khan, it appeared, had chosen to simply watch the two of them, sitting on his chair, one foot on the bed, as he continued to sip his wine. “Khan,” Molly pouted, “join us, make him please me, your Empress needs you!”

He simply grinned at her over the rim of his glass and gave a slight shake of his head. “I have faith in our guest’s ability to pleasure you, Molly, as he’s already demonstrated…what, twice is it?”

“Twice more than you have this evening,” she shot back, her venomous glare only half-faked.

“And he still has quite a long way to go before he even come close to pleasing you as many times as I have,” Khan replied, tossing back the remainder of his wine and rising abruptly to his feet. “However, if you feel he needs encouraging…”

“Punishing,” she corrected him, shooting Sherlock a smug look that quickly turned chagrined as Khan pushed Sherlock onto his back and covered the other man’s body with his own, kissing him in a leisurely fashion as she tugged futilely at her manacles. “You’re not supposed to be punishing me!” she cried out in growing frustration – and lust. She could see that Sherlock’s cock had hardened, and bit her lip to keep from demanding their attention again, knowing that Khan would only continue to torment her if she did.

However, even in her continuing frustration she couldn’t fault the view. Khan made sure that she could see as he stroked his hand down Sherlock’s side, as he nudged the other man’s legs further apart with his knee even as he deepened their kiss. Sherlock in turn was holding Khan’s head, his eyes closed and soft, needy gasps escaping his lips and seeming to lodge themselves straight between Molly’s legs. She shifted her thighs together, craving some kind of friction; Khan’s hand shot out and roughly pulled her legs apart, wordlessly forbidding her release.

Oh, she knew this game as well; she’d come twice, he’d come once, and now she wasn’t allowed to come again until he had. Sherlock, of course, was going to be rather the worse for wear, but something told her he had no objections.

Once he recognized that Molly would be obedient to his unspoken commands, Khan stopped kissing Sherlock long enough to flash her a dark look, full of promise, that affected her much as Sherlock’s voice had only moments ago. She bit her lower lip, hard, almost hard enough to draw blood, and Khan gave her a triumphant smirk as he turned his attention to Sherlock’s neck. Molly continued to watch as he sucked a dark, possessive mark into the other man’s throat, and she and Sherlock both gasped at once as Khan moved further down, coming to rest between the other man’s legs with his head just over his cock.

Molly’s eyes widened in shock; Khan only rarely fellated his lovers, instead usually demanding that they service him. And he’d only done it once in front of her, when she’d been similarly manacled. The memory brought a rush of wetness between her legs and sent a flush up her torso to burn her face. She’d loved watching her husband’s sensuous lips as they sucked his partner’s shaft, and didn’t bother to muffle her moan of pure passion as he slowly took Sherlock’s cock into his mouth.

oOo

Sherlock hadn’t expected Khan to continue his attentions once they entered the bedroom; he’d assumed the other man would want to concentrate on Molly again. But he’d underestimated his interest in continuing to demonstrate his dominance now that Sherlock had submitted to him. And considering that he was going to reap the benefits of that show of dominance, he had no objections, groaning loudly as the other man sucked the head of his cock between his lips.

The bruise on his neck would fade before morning, his enhanced healing abilities would see to that, but for now the slightly sore spot felt…good. Not as good as Khan’s mouth on his cock, of course, but damn good. He turned his face and grinned at Molly, who was no longer squirming in her bonds but staring avariciously at her husband head as it bobbed up and down in slow, sensuous motions that continued to tear appreciative growls from Sherlock’s throat. He reached over and stroked the Empress from hip to breast, lingering teasingly on her nipple until he pulled a groan from her lips in spite of her clear efforts to stifle the sound.

Just as Sherlock was about to come, feeling the coiling tension and the anticipation of release, Khan pulled away, smiling wickedly as he knelt up. He licked his lips in an exaggerated manner before glancing meaningfully at Molly’s bound form. He sprawled on his back on the side opposite to which Sherlock still occupied, one hand going lazily to stroke his erect cock. “She doesn’t get to come until I do,” he said – ordered, actually, as he gazed intently down at his Empress. “Not one second sooner or you’ll both feel my wrath in a less than enjoyable manner. Now.” He smirked, first meeting Molly’s gaze, then Sherlock’s. “Shall we begin?”


	5. Take A Walk On The Wild Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter, thanks for reading and commenting, I appreciate it and hope you enjoy!

Normally Sherlock exulted in challenges. Taking down Marcus had been incredibly exciting, stimulating his mind and fueling the adrenaline-junkie he’d always been. Khan’s challenge, on the other hand? Frustrating. Incredibly frustrating, and not just because Sherlock had been on the verge of orgasm. He could rein in his own responses to sexual stimulation well enough, but coordinating himself with not only Khan but Molly might prove to be more challenging than he even he could manage.

_No,_ he told himself forcefully as he hauled himself to his knees and gazed down at the Empresses’ enchanting form. He wouldn’t lose this challenge. His keen, Augmented senses and razor-sharp reflexes would stand him in good stead. He would make Molly keen and wail and beg him for release, but he wouldn’t give her what she wanted until he heard and saw Khan spill his seed on his own belly. “Yes,” he growled as he sunk two fingers deep inside Molly’s wet cunt. “Let’s begin.”

The manacles holding Molly’s arms to the ornate metal headboard rattled as she squirmed and twisted under Sherlock’s relentless ministrations. He kept one eye on the Emperor, effortlessly compartmentalizing his reactions to two such stimulating sights: Khan’s large hand, so similar to his own, lazily stroking his heavy erection, and Molly’s face and whines of lust as his own hand worked her to a frenzy.

He timed it perfectly; just as she began to clench around his fingers he pulled them out of her body, idly licking her juices as she gave a sharp yelp of frustration. He slipped his fingers back into as she glowered at him, the glower turning to a satisfied smile and back again as he removed the digits without doing more than slicking them further. Then he grinned and turned to Khan, wordlessly holding his hand above the Emperor’s plush lips, the grin deepening as the other man opened his mouth and sucked the offered nectar, pulling Sherlock’s fingers deep into his mouth and twirling his tongue until every delicious drop had been taken in.

“Fuck her, Sherlock,” Khan purred when the other man had pulled his fingers away. “I want to watch you, both of you.” He gave a strong pull on his cock as he spoke, locking his gaze with Sherlock’s. “Let’s make my sweet Molly scream, shall we?”

Sherlock gave an answering smirk as returned his attention to the Empress. She was staring hungrily up at him, perfect white teeth nibbling at her bottom lip, breasts jutting up as she arched her back, legs splayed and her pink cunt on perfect display for him. She showed no signs of discomfort from her bonds, arms stretched over her head, hair loose and spread over the silken pillows on which she reclined. He took a handful of her hair, tugging it over her shoulder so that his fist rested just under her chin, studying her face for a moment. When she smiled up at him, her expression equal parts desire and impatience, he leaned over and kissed her, holding nothing back as he settled between her thighs.

He could feel the heat radiating from her body, especially between her legs where his cock rested in the wiry curls of her pubic hair. He reached down and took himself in hand, balancing easily on his knees as he nuzzled her throat, nipping and licking on the side opposite where Khan had already marked her. He nudged her sopping wet opening with the head of his cock, running it teasingly along her slit, being sure to rub her clit a few times and thoroughly enjoying her gasps and moans of pleasure. 

Speaking of moans…he lifted his head and glanced over at Khan, whose eyes had glazed over as a fine sweat broke on his brow. He was still pulling steadily at his cock, one knee lifted and his other leg lying straight on the bed as he reached over and squeezed Sherlock’s ass, running his fingers lightly along his pleasantly sore opening. “Make her scream,” he said hoarsely, pinching Sherlock to remind him of the task to which he’d been set. 

Molly obligingly moved one leg so that she now mirrored her husband’s position, and Sherlock took immediate advantage to plunge deep inside her. Once he was fully seated he wasted no time in setting a punishing pace, twisting her hair round his fist and yanking her face up to his for an equally punishing kiss. She was so soft and warm, her firm breasts pressing against his chest, her cunt clenching around his cock as she shifted her hips and wrapped her legs around his waist. He loved the taste and feel and smell of her – of both his new sexual partners – and spared a fraction of his concentration to wonder if it might last longer than this night. Once the evidence against Marcus had been confirmed, he and his friends and followers might actually be allowed to live their own lives.

Then Khan reached over and smacked him on the ass, hard, forcing his attention back to the moment at hand. The Emperor was close, so very close; Sherlock slowed his movements fractionally, listening as Molly’s moans increased in volume with every thrust. He lowered his head and took her right nipple into his mouth, rolling it around his tongue and then nipping at it as he heard Khan’s grunts of pleasure turn into a low, whining moan, signifying that he’d reached his orgasm. Molly was next, nearly screaming with pleasure as Sherlock once again increased his pace, pistoning against her while the sweat coated their bodies and plastered his curls to his forehead.

He came with a shout as Khan suddenly forced two fingers into his opening, slicked with his own fluids, which still coated his hand and belly. Sherlock shuddered and gasped with his forehead pressed to Molly’s collarbone as Khan rose to his knees, then leaned down to press a deep kiss to his wife’s lips.

After he’d undone her bonds, the three of them lounged on the massive bed, still naked and temporarily sated. Servants were summoned to bring food and more wine, and Commander Donovan appeared after they’d eaten to inform the Emperor that it appeared that Sherlock had been telling the truth: confronted with the evidence of his perfidy – and after an ‘encouraging’ session in the Agony Booth – Marcus had confessed.

That was a relief to Sherlock, although he remained stoic at the news. He and his people still faced an uncertain future, but a least they wouldn’t be forced to dance to the will of a mere human who’d gotten lucky. It was just as likely Khan would use them as ruthlessly as the former Admiral, but Sherlock could live with that possibility. 

And who knew? Perhaps one day, he thought as the Empress nipped at his throat and palmed his erection while the Emperor drew him in for a scorching kiss, the opportunity would arise for his original Augments to supplant those who had come after.

After all, that was the way things worked, in this world and the one he’d left behind.

Sighing with pleasure at both the physical sensations being elicited by his newest set of lovers and the thought of what the future might hold, he sank into their embraces and allowed himself to be lost in the carnality of the moment.


End file.
